I have never been much of a “toucher.” I was not raised in a touchy family. I used to be a jaded soul so I didn’t want touch because I did not trust it. And then I was diagnosed with fibromyalgia and touch became painful. So I stopped touching and stopped being touched. And then it became an excuse to not be touched. But recently, I have begun finding comfort in touch again. Perhaps when you go so long without it, you begin to realize the loss.
On Sunday evening one of my friends put his arm around my shoulder and asked how I was doing, it made me weep. And Monday, a friend stopped me on the sidewalk at work and asked if she could pray for my knee. There we stood in the middle of campus with her bent down holding my knee and praying. And you know what? It was not embarrassing. It was powerful, and I wept. And tonight I was sitting at another friend’s house. I had gone there for tutoring, but she was sick. She stepped out of the house for a few minutes and I was left there alone with her mother-in-law. She is a lovely woman and we are becoming friends, but she speaks no English. She rubbed her leg and her eyes asked how my knee was doing. She has been praying for me since I injured myself three weeks ago. When I shook my head telling her that it was not good, she rolled up my pant leg and she began to rub my knee trying to find the source of the pain. I winced when she found it. So she rubbed more gently and then she went into her room and came back with a small jar labeled in Burmese.
She took out a small amount of ointment which smelled like wintergreen and started rubbing it into my sore joint. Her gentleness struck me. And then I had to fight back tears. It was kind and tender and good. It was patient and sweet. And I realized that we didn’t need words. She was caring for an ache in my body as well as my soul. We do not always know the depth of pain that a soul has suffered. My friend did not know that I had pain that was deeper than the pain in my knee. But she touched me. And in so doing, she opened of the flood gates.
I think of the woman who washed Jesus feet with her hair. I know that everyone in the room was angry with her for doing so. I know that they all wanted Jesus to tell her to stop. But there was a lesson in this story. This is why the story made it into the Bible. Most of the time the lesson that we hear taught is about how “priceless” this gift was. And I have been moved by the story of that extravagant gift many times. But tonight I hear it with a little different heart.
Is it possible that Jesus did not tell her to go away because her touch soothed something in His soul that others could not see? Not some unsatisfied carnal desire. But a longing so pure and holy that it doesn’t even have words. I see Jesus moving from place to place and from situation to situation. I see Him putting out His hands to touch others, to heal others. “Wherever He entered villages, or cities, or countryside, they were laying the sick in the market places, and imploring Him that they might just touch the fringe of His cloak; and as many as touched it were being cured.” (Mark 6:56, NAS) And I see the physical touch that their sickness required drained Him. “Someone touched me; I know that power has gone out from me.” (Luke 8:46, NIV) Christ was divine, yet human. Don’t you think that maybe He craved the same physical touch that He gave out to others? We are not told this in Scripture, but I wonder. I think that there are times when we all long for human touch – whether conscious of it or not. Like a weary child who climbs up into his mother’s lap to feel the touch of her arm wrapped around him and her kiss on his forehead; I think that maybe this woman ministered to a place in Jesus’ heart - a worn place that needed to be soothed.
How often do we minister that kind of tender touch to others? When I spend time with a person, shouldn’t my touch reflect the compassion and comfort that Christ had? If touch is not an option, as it is not in some cultures, then shouldn’t that same love and peace be reflected in my eyes? I want every soul that I touch in a day to feel just a taste of what God feels for them. I don't think it's an option - I think it's a requirement of my walk with God. "A new command I give to you: Love one another. As I have loved you - so must you love one another." (John 13:34, NIV)
Christ touched people. He healed people. He gave until the power poured out of Him. And then He received. In this one picture on this one night in the Pharisee’s house, He received. Yesterday I gave out. Tonight I received. I received a gift to my aching soul and it healed me. And that has given me the strength and the courage to give again tomorrow.